Final Passage

On the day I go
Let me ride
If the dark must win
Let me ride

Choose my final roads,
Pass 'neath leafless trees,
Follow kind shadows;
Oh, but if you please -

Let me ride there.


Naerev looked up from the poem when she heard cheers. The carriage had rounded Silver Urn Hill and come into sight of Alfa, the last village of her Passage. With deliberate care the girl put away quill, ink, and her secret vellum journal. As soon as her attention was off writing the dim, grey, rippled sky whispered to her, a sibilant babble of many tongues.

"Shh," Naerev said with no little petulance. "There is a party, so leave me be!" The voice withdrew immediately, but her raised voice caught the attention of the horse.

"Mum?" he asked, proud neck bent so he could cast a wise and mild eye on Naerev.

"I'm sorry, Bareth, it was nothing," she said. "Could you slow down a bit, please? I'm not ready for the party yet."

"Mum," he replied with a nod and snort. His plodding slowed even more.

Gazing out at the trees with no leaves and fields with no crops, she choked down tears for her dying world.

But as in every village along her Passage, the Passage Day Party cheered her. Feasting and dancing, singing and gift-giving; three full days of celebration and always the center of attention was Naerev.

The girl did her Passage duty well. She told all the old stories - how the Original Crew traveled between worlds on ships of fire and steel, what happened when a broken Q-bridge pulled their new world into the chaos between nothing and everything, and when the first Teller faced the Between, sacrificing herself to make the sky. Though she dearly wanted to, she did not read from her journal; trainers had forbidden such new tales on the Passage.

And the time passed too quickly; too soon the Elders were silently helping Naerev into the carriage for her Final Passage. Everyone else hid in their houses, sad eyes peeking at her. The Elders urged her to remember her training and raise the light to save the world.

Now on the final path, she remembered how her mother cried the first time Naerev told her about the talking sky. The child she was then did not understood why until years had passed and her training was fulfilled.

The gift to hear Between was rare now, so rare the last Teller had taken her Final Passage years before Naerev was born. Now the sky was low, and so dim no plants thrived. Now Naerev was the Teller on her Final Passage, youngest Teller since records of such things were kept.

Too soon Bareth stopped and whinnied. "Mum?"

Naerev stepped from the carriage reluctantly and stood beside the horse, looking at the barren ground ahead. A faint path wound through the stones and freakishly twisted grass. Barely visible beyond was the towering Lander. To her it looked like a monstrous needle piercing a village-sized mushroom cap.

"Bareth, will you come with me?" Naerev placed her pale left hand on his nose. "I'm afraid and don't wish to be alone." Though the day was but half gone, twilight pressed in all around.

"I would, for you." He nuzzled her hand. "My mind would leave. I could not stay." He hung his head low. "I am sorry."

She stamped her foot. "Why me? Why do I have do this? Why should I die?"

"You should not die," said Bareth. He place his cheek to hers to catch her tears. "And still you must. We have a path. I walk this road. You save us all. To each a path."

The girl looked back at the carriage and wished she could hide behind the red velvet drapes. Other wishes raced through her thoughts and she clung to the horse's neck. Patient as all his race, Bareth waited. After a time her thoughts slowed and peace finally came.

"Bareth, you won't forget me, will you?" the girl asked.

"No, I will not." He neighed long in sorrow. "All will know you."

Clutching her journal, Naerev turned from the horse and marched up the path. Bareth watched until her pale form passed from his sight, then hung his head sadly and waited.

Before long the sky lifted and glowed brighter. Murky ripples of Between faded to pearlescent swirls that disappeared into a sky brighter than Bareth had ever seen. He huffed the smell of warming soil, shivered at the freshening breeze on his back.

Though he knew she wouldn't return, Bareth waited though the night, catching naps on his feet between rain storms. Only when the sky lightened with dawn's glow did he turn the carriage about, a carriage now an empty hearse. Then he began the long Honored Return through Alfa and Beeta and all the other villages of Fallen.

The End?